Snakes and Ladders
by ChatterChick
Summary: Climbing up the ranks of the Death Eaters is the easy part. Staying there is another story. The tale of twelve Slytherins and their ups and downs during the second war. Includes: Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, Cassius Warrington, Graham Montague along with four Original Characters.
1. Jason Greengrass (Sweet Green Child)

**Snakes and Ladders**

by ChatterChick

Summary: Climbing up the ranks of the Death Eaters is the easy part. Staying there is another story. The tale of twelve Slytherins and their ups and downs during the second war. Includes: Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, Cassius Warrington, Graham Montague along with Original Characters, Jason Greengrass, Nephele Rosier, Cloris Carrow and Annie Runcorn.

A/N: I've modelled the format loosely on the British TV series "Skins" where each chapter is named after and focuses more on that character, although others do appear throughout it to progress their own storyline or add to the main character's story. There will be thirteen chapters total. If you're familiar with my other work, you may recognize my OCs, Jason Greengrass and Nephele Rosier. They are quite different in this...

 _Content Warning: There may be sensitive themes in this story, such as depression, murder, alcohol/drug abuse, domestic or child abuse, rape, torture. The only thing I really don't write about is graphic self-harm or suicide. Read at your own risk._

* * *

 ** _Jason Greengrass_** _(Sweet Green Child)_

There was no freer feeling than flying at night.

The summer months meant the air was still warm and comfortable, but there was no sun in his eyes causing him to squint. There was just the soft moonlight and the twinkling stars above. Jason didn't even bother with the disillusion charm. It was too dark for the muggles to see and even if they did, who would believe them? In a blink of an eye he would be gone and muggles tended to make excuses for anything that didn't make sense to them.

He could feel the air shimmer with magic as he flew through the wards that surrounded his family home, Greengrass Hall. The old wards kept much more than just unwanted muggles off the vast property and it was only the blood in his veins that allowed him to slip across them with no issue. Everyone else had to arrive at the gates, but Jason could come and go with ease.

It made sneaking away from his parents all too easy.

He slowed his pace as he got closer to the house, hovering just outside his bedroom window on the third floor. With a lazy flick of his wand, he silently unlocked the window and opened it. He easily flew through the large bay window and dismounted his prized Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

He mounted the broom on its rack and slipped out of his robes until he was standing in just his boxers. He quickly shrank the black robes, neatly folded them and then hid them in a sock in his underwear drawer. Not even the house elves would find it there.

Exhaustion crept in, and Jason settled into bed. Tomorrow was going to be a struggle, but he had done this often enough this past year. He was just drifting off when he heard the harsh ringing of his alarm clock. Blearily, Jason opened his eyes. Light was already creeping in through his window. Although he had probably slept for a good two hours, he didn't feel like he had slept a wink. There was a battle between his mind and body as he tried to convince himself to roll out of bed. Eventually Jason was able to trudge into his on-suite bathroom feeling much like death warmed over.

Fumbling around with the little vials of potions in his drawer, Jason managed to find the last of his Invigoration Draught. He'd have to stock up on more at the shop when his father left for lunch. Just a few drops on his tongue and Jason felt as if he had slept a solid eight hours. It would catch up with him later, it always did, but it would at least get him through the day without his father suspecting he had been out all night.

He joined his family downstairs for breakfast. Being the summer months, they were joined by his younger sisters, Daphne and Astoria. The past year had been odd and lonely with them off to Hogwarts and Jason home alone with just his parents for company in the large manor.

Seated at the ends of the long, maple table were his parents, Hyperion and Sappho Greengrass. His father had _The Daily Prophet_ out while his mother had her reading glasses and the unedited copy of _Witch Weekly_ opened. Her red quill was furiously adding notes to it while she sipped her tea. His sisters were seated together, whispering and giggling back and forth. Jason took the empty seat across from them. Within moments, their family house elf, Kappa, appeared with a plate for Jason and a cup of strong black coffee.

His mother carefully surveyed him over the top of her magazine. After a long pause, she said, "You look bright eyed this morning. Did you sleep well?"

She knew. Jason's gut turned painfully. He had been trying so hard to keep his night-time activities from them.

"Wonderfully," Jason replied, deciding to try his best to lie to her. He tucked into his breakfast with great gusto. "I went to bed early last night."

"Really? I didn't see you in your bed when I checked in at midnight. Or when I checked again at one. Or at three. To the best of my knowledge, you appeared there sometime between the hours of four and five. Would you like to tell me where you were, young man?"

"Mother, I can explain – "

"I sure hope you can, because I don't like the conclusion I came up with myself."

xXxXx

Her parents disappeared with her brother after breakfast to have a talk with him.

It had been an ill-kept secret over the past month that Jason snuck out at least once a week. Astoria wasn't sure how long her parents had known about it or how long it had been going on for. Ever since returning from Hogwarts, Astoria heard the harsh whispers of her parents arguing over Jason's disappearances.

Their father was more than happy to ignore it. "A wizard's got to have privacy. The boy's nineteen! For all we know, he could be sneaking around with a girlfriend," he would often say in response.

Their mother, however, had a different opinion on the matter.

"You don't think he – you know – " Astoria asked Daphne, gesturing to her left arm. She didn't want to say the word out loud. For all that the Greengrasses believed in blood purity, Astoria didn't want to think of her sweet brother out there murdering or torturing muggles and muggle-borns. Leave that to the Crabbes and the Goyles of their world. Their family had stayed out of the mess the first time and it suited them perfectly well. They didn't have any of the stigmas that families such as the Blacks and Rosiers carried after the war. It was better to stay neutral until one side was declared the victor.

Daphne looked grim and Astoria knew that wasn't a good sign.

"There's only one way to find out for sure," Daphne said. "Mum and Dad aren't going to tell us and I doubt Jason will."

She reached into her handbag and pulled out a set of pinkish wires attached to a set of real looking human ears. She passed one to Astoria and said, "Extendable Ears. From Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

Astoria looked wearily at the joke shop product and then at her sister. She didn't trust anything a Weasley twin made as far as she could throw it. One too many times, Astoria had been the unwitting victim of some cruel prank of theirs. Younger Slytherins were an easy and favourite target to the twins. She half thought the cursive thing would blow up in their ears and render them deaf.

"I know, don't give me that look," Daphne said, "their products are dead useful."

They put the ears in and the ears crawled along the floor and slipped out of sight. Moments later, Astoria could hear voices as clear as if they were standing in the same room.

"We can't just sit back if we want to win!" Jason heatedly said. "Everyone just stayed out of the way last time and look what happened."

"Yes," their mother coolly replied. Astoria struggled to hear her. Her mother's was a quiet anger and she never raised her voice. It was sharp and cutting and more efficient than any heated yelled her father did. "Look what happened. Entire pureblood lines ended, their only heirs dead or in prison before their prime. You have a responsibility to this family – "

"If the Order were to have their way – "

"I see you've fallen to the Death Eater dogma. I thought I raised you better than to believe such obvious lies."

Their mother was the Editor in Chief of _Witch Weekly_ and – not that she would ever publicly admit it – the founder of _PlayWitch_. She helped shape the media of the wizarding world, filling the minds of witches across the country. Sappho Greengrass was half the reason for the smear campaign that had lost Albus Dumbledore so much influence before Voldemort showed up in the Ministry of Magic.

As a result, she had raised her three children to be able to think for themselves and see outside the often one-sided narrative the papers gave.

"It's not all lies. I went to school with them, Potter, Weasley and Granger. Granger thinks she's going to change the wizarding world to fit her narrow, muggle way of thinking. They have no respect for tradition, how could they? A bunch of blood-traitors and mudbloods!"

"The Granger girl will soon learn that a muggle-born, for all her cleverness, is not going to amount to much more than another clerk in some obscure little department. This is a world where family and blood means everything, and she has neither. Unless you count the Weasleys, which isn't a point in her favour," Mother rationalized.

It was the same with every muggle-born who tried to 'change' their world. They soon found out how much the old pure-blood families ran the Ministry and how it was almost impossible to achieve anything without their backing.

"Fine," Jason conceded, "although I still say this is the time to join! Albus Dumbledore is dead. They're leaderless and have no real plan. There's no way we can lose."

There was a moment of silence and their mother sounded sad when she finally spoke. "For your sake, I truly hope so. Once you've thrown your lot in with the Death Eaters it's for life."

xXxXx

Jason kept an eye on the three cauldrons simmering just behind the counter. His father wanted him to restock vials of Vitamix Potion, Calming Draught and Pepperup Potion. These tended to be quite popular and it was hard to keep them on the shelves. It kept him distracted, so he didn't have to worry about his mother's words.

They couldn't lose the war. Not when they were so far ahead. Rabastan Lestrange had hinted towards things that were in motion that would certainly give them an advantage.

He shook his head, clearly his mind and focusing on the task ahead of him. This was not the time to get himself worked up with his _other_ life.

Jason was working as his father's apprentice. In three years time, he would be fully qualified as an Apothecary and be able to manage one of the Greengrass Apothecaries without supervision. Until then, his father would have to test the quality of his potions before putting them for sale, but he trusted Jason's ability to do simple potions without much assistance. Today he was meeting with one of the suppliers for potions ingredients so Jason was handling the shop.

It was fairly quiet. The only customers Jason had had all day were a pair of warlocks, currently arguing the merits of using frog eyes rather than newt eyes.

No one really came to Diagon Alley these days unless they really needed something. Gone were the days were people idly window shopped and lingered. These days they came quickly, looking over their shoulders, and then left just as quickly. As a result, the shops weren't doing as well. Not that it affected the Greengrass' vault by much. It just made for long days at work.

The bell above the shop door chimed and in walked a beautiful witch. Tall and slender, with white-blonde hair, slate-grey eyes and high cheekbones, Nephele Rosier was the perfect result of generations of fine breeding.

She was also one of Jason's closest friends. They had been sorted into the same year in Slytherin, but the real defining moment in their friendship was halfway through first year when one of the Weasley twins threw a dungbomb into Nephele's cauldron. It exploded, the volatile potion inside had covered Nephele in the thick, yellow substance.

With a painful hiss, the potion had started dissolving her fair blonde hair and Jason was certain she would cry. She did, but they were angry tears inbetween screaming bloody murder at the pair of Gryffindor idiots. Professor Snape had had to interfere and send Nephele to the Hospital Wing before she started throwing hexes.

Jason and his dormmates got into a fist fight with the twins later in the corridors. Making a girl from Slytherin cry didn't sit well with any of them. It was the first of many fights they would have over the course of seven years. They got thirty points docked from Slytherin and a permanent friend in the form of Nephele.

Nephele stopped to browse the potions, although Jason doubted she wasn't here for that. It was far cheaper to buy the ingredients and brew them, although most witches and wizards either couldn't be bothered or were dismal at potions. Nephele was quite skilled at potions and certainly didn't need to buy pre-made ones. She took her time, carefully reading each vial until the pair of warlocks paid for their supplies and left the shop. Only then, she pulled a tiny vial of Blonde-Hair Potion from the shelf and sashayed over to his register.

"Six galleons," Jason said, "and here I thought you were a natural blonde."

Nephele smirked. "Mother ran out. Her roots are showing and she just about _died_ of embarrassment. I offered to pick her up some. Of course, I do have another motivation.

She slid a piece of parchment over with a handful of galleons. It had the location, date and time of their next meeting. Nephele burned it after Jason was finished reading it.

"So soon?"

"He just found out this morning. They're moving Potter and need all the flyers they can get. Rasbastan knows Graham and Cassius played Quidditch and assumes you and I are just as competent on a broom."

Jason's heart beat faster, already feeling the excitement. They had been doing small tasks for Rabastan for several months now. Mostly to test their loyalty, although some of them were grunt work that Rabastan saw as beneath himself. Not just anyone was marked and admitted into the inner circles of the Death Eaters. Jason and his friends hadn't even been taken to meet the Dark Lord yet. Once they proved themselves to Rabastan, he would promote them further into the ranks.

This would be the first real Death Eater mission that they were assigned to. There was a good chance that afterwards they would be marked.

"Of course. You know I'll be there."

Nephele nodded her head, a small smile in response. "I told him as much."

xXxXx

There was only one thing Cassius Warrington missed about his family's home, Warrington Estate, and that was the freedom to fly without worry of being spotted by muggles. Of course, the freedom to fly meant sacrificing his personal freedom. His mother fussed and worried about him, asking too many questions for comfort. His father badgered him about finding an acceptable pure-blood girl to carry on the Warrington's noble bloodline.

Cassius tried to banish such thoughts for now, focusing on the glorious afternoon before him. He zipped on the air, doing spirals, loop-de-loops and other aerobatic stunts at such breathtaking fast speeds that it would have no doubt given his parents heart failure. He enjoyed the rush he got from using such a magnificent broom. The Nimbus 2500 was not expected to hit the market until next spring.

Of course, being the grandson of the owner of the Nimbus Racing Broom Company had its perks. His maternal grandfather, Devlin Whitehorn, had founded the company in 1967 and fully intended to pass it along to his only grandson. Cassius spent his days assisting his grandfather and learning the fine art of crafting brooms. He had made this one with his grandfather's guidance. He felt almost as much affection for the broom as he did his own wand.

Cassius gracefully landed, hopping off the broom and passing it back to his grandfather. Devlin had been watching him from the ground, smiling and making notes as Cassius tested the model for him.

"It's fantastic," Cassius informed his grandfather. "Easily surpasses the 2001 and the Firebolt. I didn't quite get it to one hundred and seventy in ten seconds, but I don't think I was pushing it that much."

He admired the wood work. His grandfather had chosen aspen this time and the polished white wood looked like it was ivory from afar.

"Excellent," Delvin said. "I'm quite happy about it and can't wait to put it into production. I'll win orders back from those blasted Firebolts this year. That one is yours."

"You're joking."

"Not at all. I have my notes to make more. You should keep the first broom you made."

They parted ways soon after, Cassius apparating back to his townhouse in London.

He was looking forward to long, cool shower. Between the flying and the hot sun, he was sweating profoundly. His clothes were sticking to his back and his hair felt sleek as well. Walking inside, he found his friend, Jason, lounging on his couch, a novel in hand.

"You reek of cauldrons," Cassius told his friend, wrinkling his nose as if in disgust. It wasn't that bad. He had more of a floral scent today. It amused Cassius that Jason smelt like a witch. Like the pretty pure-blooded witch that his father insisted that he find and marry. It would have been so much easier if Cassius had fallen for one of Jason's sisters. "I'm going to have to insist you shower."

"Well," Jason slowly drawled. Cassius was not a poet by any means, but he swore Jason's eyes were as deep and dark a blue as any ocean. He easily could lose himself in their depths. "If you insist."

"I do."

It wasn't long before both wizards were upstairs, quickly discarding each other of their clothes. Cassius' blood was pumping as he pushed his friend-turned-lover into the cool tiles inside the shower. His lips and tongue teased, first Jason's lips, but then wandered towards the sensitive lobes of his ears, nipping and tugging with his teeth. His hands roamed the well-travelled path of Jason's body. Suddenly Jason was on his knees with Cassius' hand fisted roughly in his hair as he teased him right back.

Sometime later, they both made it to Cassius' bed. Cassius lazily traced a line down the spine of Jason's bare back, eliciting the occasional shiver.

Jason murmured. "Nephele stopped by the shop today. Apparently the Dark Lord heard you're talented on a broom."

Cassius snickered. He doubted the Dark Lord cared about his sex life. Although they were very careful to hide it from the older Death Eaters, many were quite conservative and old fashioned. It was fine for wizards to fool around with each other, so long as it stayed hidden and they made acceptable marriages and produced proper, pure-blooded children. "That I am. And if I recall correctly, so are you. Just why was he interested in my talents?"

"Tomorrow night. We're meeting at Malfoy Manor. From there, we'll ambush Potter and the Order in the skies. Apparently he lives in some town in Surrey called Little Whinging and more than likely they'll be heading towards the Weasley's hovel in Devon."

Cassius closed his eyes and nodded.

xXxXx

Jason met up with Cassius, Nephele and their fourth friend, Graham Montague, before apparating to Malfoy Manor. They arrived together at the gates, brooms in hand, and quickly found their mentor, Rabastan, in the courtyard.

They noticed Draco Malfoy standing off with his father and mother. The weak-willed boy was looking faint, as if he'd prefer to be anywhere else.

"Looks like Darling Draco's still hanging off his mother's skirts," Graham mocked. The Malfoys had all too swiftly fallen from the Dark Lord's grace. It caused for great joy and concern among the ranks. Many had privately disliked the family, many things about Lucius Malfoy and his heir rubbed them the wrong way. Now it was openly acceptable to mock them and many did so with great pleasure. Yet at the same time, it reminded them all that if the Malfoys could fall, so could anyone.

"It's a shame," Nephele grumbled, "Malfoy gets to play with the big boys because his daddy is a Death Eater. If _my_ father was still alive – "

Jason gently put a hand on her shoulder. Her father's death at the hands of Alastor Moody in the last war was a wound that never quite healed. "He would have known it was an honour to be worked towards. Not something bought with gold. Draco might be marked, but he's about as green as they come."

There was not much time for chitchat as Lord Voldemort appeared, flanked by Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange.

He looked at all of them and issued only simple, but explicit, instructions. "Harry Potter is mine. Kill the rest."

A cheer rumbled through the thirty odd Death Eaters and allies that had been assembled for the task. They all mounted their brooms and took flight, darkening the sky like a colony of dark bats. They went east-bound for Surrey easily found the Order shooting off in pairs of two in every direction. As expected, each pair had its own Harry Potter clone.

"That's Fred Weasley," Cassius said, nodding towards the skyline where Weasley Senior was flying eastbound alongside one of the Potters. "I'd recognize him on a broom anywhere."

With that, the four friends took off after them, Rasbastan close behind, confident that they were pursuing a false-Potter and leaving the real one to the Dark Lord. It was also exciting to take down the pair of blood traitors, especially if Cassius was correct and they were dealing with Fred Weasley.

" _Crucio_!" Graham was the first to aim a spell, his hatred for the Weasley twins unparalleled.

Weasley easily ducked it, pulling into a quick dive before firing his own spell back at Graham. " _Stupefy_!"

While the Weasleys had moral issues with spells like the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse, it was clear they were still aiming to kill. This wasn't the Quidditch pitch with professors watching and cushioning charms ready to catch any falls. Stunning a wizard off his broom out in the open at this height and at these speeds meant leaving him to fall to a certain death.

Jason tried to pull ahead, flying just to the left of Weasley Senior. He aimed a Stunning Spell of his own, but the older wizard deflected it with a Shield Charm. While he wasn't as skilled as a flyer, he had decades of spellcasting experience and his reflexes were impressive.

Soon, the Weasleys were bombarded with spells. It was all they could do to hold onto their brooms and stay on the defensive. It was just the pair of them versus five. Weasley's fancy tricks on a broom decreased and soon it was all he could do to throw up counter-curses and shield charms to protect him and his father. Weasley Senior was more concerned for his son's safety than his own, and was nearly knocked off more than once. Jason was sure they'd be able to finish them off.

Then, suddenly, the Weasleys disappeared. It was as if they flew into a cloud and never came out. Jason and his friends immediately halted their brooms, looking around.

"What the hell?" Jason called out. "Where did they go?"

"There must be a Fidelius Charm around a house in the area," Nephele explained. Her cheeks were tight with barely controlled rage at the Weasleys slipping out from under them. "We might as well head back."

The three boys looked towards their leader for confirmation. Rabastan had been with them the entire mission, silently evaluating them throughout. He looked proud of his young pupils, despite the overall failure of their mission.

"Ms Rosier is correct, as usual. The Order favours the Fidelius Charm and has erected it around most of their homes," Rabastan lectured. Jason was sure Rabastan would have made an excellent Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, if only he wasn't an escaped convict. Maybe in the future they would be able to overturn the sentence. "We'll regroup at the Malfoy's, see if anyone was more successful. You did well for your first battle."

xXxXx

Draco landed on the ground with a soft _thump_ , trying his best to conceal his nerves. Really, all he wanted to do was fall to his knees and throw up all over his parent's painstakingly maintained lawn. Draco was quickly realizing that he had not the stomach nor the desire to see his foes killed or maimed in battle. He had witnessed Professor Snape slice off one of the fake Potter's ears with the same curse that Potter had used to slice _him_ open just a few months ago. If Snape's aim had been a little better, the he would have sliced the fake Potter to pieces in flight.

All around him, his so-called brothers-in-arms were landing and congratulating each other. Alastor Moody had been killed in the battle and their own casualties were minimal. Their numbers were certainly greater than the Order so two Death Eaters in exchange for the de-facto leader of the Order was considered a fair loss.

Draco knew that they would be celebrating their victory into the early hours of the morning. While they failed to kill Potter, they had succeeded at weakening the Order.

His mother met them at the front entrance. The war had aged her pre-maturely. Draco could recall his mother taking great care of her appearance throughout his youth. Tiny vials of potions and lotions to keep herself from showing signs of age. Flawlessly smooth skin and not a single grey hair amongst the blonde. These days, there was the beginning of crow's feet that pulled at her eyes, worry lines had formed at the corners of her mouth. She seemed thinner to Draco, frailer than ever before. Her shoulders relaxed just marginally as her eyes inspected both Draco and his father.

She stood tall, welcoming the Death Eaters into their home with outstretched arms. The perfect hostess. "Come in. Please make yourselves at home."

With a snap of her fingers, one of the Malfoy house-elves, Dusty, appeared in front of her. "See that they're taken care of." The house-elf nodded and vanished, no doubt scrambling to get enough drinks and food for the impromptu party.

His uncle Rodolphus pushed a tumbler of firewhiskey into his hand and forcefully clapped him on the back once they were into the Ball Room. "One by one, the Order will fall!"

"Yes sir," Draco said, giving a thin smile to his uncle. Rodolphus, like his wife and brother, had spent too many years locked up in Azkaban and was mentally unstable. He seemed lucid enough tonight, but Draco knew he could easily slip into fits of rage, especially when drinking. Draco was keen on getting away from him.

Draco kept to the fringe of the party, drifting in and out of conversation with his father's friends and associates. Suddenly, his old Quidditch team mate, Cassius, was throwing an arm around him. "Come over here and celebrate with us."

Draco was suddenly surrounded by four former Slytherins. Aside from him, they were perhaps the youngest at the gathering tonight. They were red in the face, whether from alcohol or adrenaline, Draco didn't care to know.

"We're getting marked tonight," Graham proudly announced. "Rabastan thought we handled ourselves well tonight. The Dark Lord wants to meet us."

"Congratulations," Draco weakly said. Should he tell them to run while they still could? Should he tell them that he regretted it every day? Should he tell him that the Dark Lord was insane and his followers no better? Should he tell them that he feared not only for his life, but that of his mother and his father?

He didn't. He couldn't. They'd tell Rabastan or the Dark Lord himself, and then Draco and his parents would be killed as blood traitors.

Draco could only throw back his drink, the firewhiskey burning his throat, but keeping the words from forming on his lips

xXxXx

Jason felt a level of pride. They were only a year out of Hogwarts and already he and his friends had managed to earn the trust of their mentor. The four of them were led away from Draco Malfoy, to the library where their lord was waiting. Lord Voldemort hadn't joined the party, not being one for merriment and drink, Rabastan had explained.

"He's quite eager to meet you," Rabastan said, "I've been providing updates on your progress this past year."

In front of the roaring fire there was a large, emerald green armchair. Over the top of it, Jason could just make out the distinct, bald head of the Dark Lord. Jason had seen Lord Voldemort from a distance earlier, but never this close. Obediently seated next to its master, was the giant snake, Nagini.

Slowly, Voldemort rose from his seat and walked around it. Jason almost had to look away. Blood red eyes, more like those of a snake, peered back at them. His nose was two slits. He looked less a man and more a monster. "I have heard great things about all of you," Voldemort said in a raspy voice.

The four stood side by side before him as Voldemort circled them, looking them up and down. At one point, Jason could feel a sharp headache and he realized Voldemort was probing his mind. Jason tried his best to relax. He had nothing to hide.

"Nephele Rosier," Lord Voldemort said. Nephele held still, her chin tilted up in arrogance, her slant-grey eyes fixed on Voldemort. "I remember your father. It's a great shame what the Aurors did to him. You've joined us to finish his work?"

"Of course, my Lord."

"Evan Rosier was a great wizard. I expect equally great things from his daughter," he said. "Cassius Warrington. Your parents have always been loyal supporters. I have no doubts about their heir and only son."

Next to him, Cassius seemed to relax. "I will not fail you, my Lord."

"Jason Greengrass," Voldemort was standing directly in front of him now. Jason forced himself to stare into those red eyes. "The first of your family to see the light. You have proved yourself so far, but I will be watching."

Jason gave a slight bow of his head. "Yes, my Lord."

"Graham Montague," Lord Voldemort addressed the final member of their group. "That's a family name I am unfamiliar with. Tell me, who is your father?"

"It's my mother's name, sir. I have never met my father."

"I see," Voldemort said. There was an amused smirk on his face. "Tell me, what brings a half-blood to my cause?"

There was a sharp exhale of breath. "I don't care with the way the rest of the world treats us with Dumbledore's influence. The entire house of Slytherin, your noble ancestor, has been cast aside and abused for too long. The Weasley twins shoved me into that fucking Vanishing Cabinet, back when it was still broken. I couldn't walk afterwards, or speak or do anything really. All their friends knew too, and not one of them would tell a professor. I was in the Hospital Wings for weeks and Madame Pomphey couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. When I was finally able to speak, the adults at that school ignored me and told me I didn't remember properly. That is just one example of many, but as far as the rest of the world is concerned, our lives don't matter."

Jason never hated anyone more than the Weasley twins. Graham could have died from their actions and they wouldn't have been held accountable for it. All because the Weasleys were Gryffindors and therefore _good_ , and Graham was a Slytherin and therefore _bad_.

It was time to change that.

"Welcome to the family," Lord Voldemort after a long moment of silence. He was smiling, and it was possibly the most frightening thing Jason had ever seen. "Now, who would like to volunteer to be marked first?"

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	2. Pansy Parkinson (Daddy Issues)

**Snakes and Ladders**

by ChatterChick

Summary: Climbing through the ranks of the Death Eaters is the easy part. Staying there is another story. The tale of twelve Slytherins and their ups and downs during the second war. Includes: Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, Cassius Warrington, Graham Montague along with Original Characters, Jason Greengrass, Nephele Rosier, Cloris Carrow and Annie Runcorn.

* * *

 _ **Pansy Parkinson** (Daddy Issues)_

Pansy breathed in deeply as she stepped out onto her balcony. Her bony hands clutched the railing and her face tilted up towards the sun. It was shining brilliantly, the grass was a lush green colour and her mother's gardens were in full bloom. On a little glass table, her little pot of pink pansies had their petals tilted up towards the sun as well. As Pansy exhaled, she smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace inside.

August second, nineteen ninety-seven was a fantastic day to be Pansy Parkinson.

The Ministry had fallen the day before when the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, had been assassinated. Pansy had enough insider knowledge to know that a coup by the Death Eaters had happened and the new Minister was firmly on their side. Soon enough, things would be set in motion and the wizarding world would return to its former glory. Dumbledore was dead and his decades of influence were long over. His merry band of blood-traitors, half-breeds and mudbloods would no longer be in power. Things were as they should be.

Not that the current politics put her in such high spirits on this lovely summer day.

What had Pansy in such a good mood was that today was her seventeenth birthday. It was the day she officially became a full-grown witch, with all the rights and privileges associated with it. It was the day she could use magic outside of school. The day she came into her inheritance. The day Pansy no longer had to seek her parents' permission for anything.

Her birthday was also the one day a year that was all about Pansy. She did try to make the other three hundred sixty-four days about her, to varying degrees of success. Today she got to be the centre of attention without much effort. Her parents were throwing her a party that evening where everyone would come and lavish her with gifts, praise and attention.

Spinning on her heel, she walked back inside her room and then through the rest of the manor. There was a bounce to her step as she joined her parents and brother in the dining room for brunch.

"Happy Birthday, Princess," her father said, standing up to greet her. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Seventeen! What a big day."

"Thanks, Daddy," Pansy said.

Her mother was the next, offering her a hug and kissing her cheeks. "You've grown up into a fine, beautiful young lady. Happy Birthday, darling."

Her fourteen-year-old brother, Rowan, crept up behind her and pinched her in the fat of her arm. It was an unfortunate birthday tradition where he tried to pinch her once for every year of her age. "Happy Birthday, sweet sister!"

She rounded on him with a vicious grin, pulling her wand out of her summer robes. "Do you really want to go there?"

Rowan raised his hands in mock surrender. Pansy kept a wary eye on him as he sat back down and was safely out of reaching distance.

Pansy smoothed the skirt of her dress as she sat down at the table. She then poured herself a cup of Earl Grey and helped herself to a piece of toast and some fruit. Picking at her food, Pansy joined in her parent's discussions. Her mother had made some minor changes to the guest list for her birthday party ("I know she's just a half-blood, darling, but that Fiona Greystone is really making herself a name at the Ministry these days.") while her father talked about business and meetings he had all day.

"I've also scheduled an appointment with the goblins, they'll take us down to your vault this afternoon and get that set up for you," Cyrus Parkinson was saying. Her parents had put aside a trust fund for her and now that she was seventeen she was able to access it. It was only a small part of her inheritance. She would receive the full amount when she turned twenty-four and half of the Parkinson estate after her parents passed away.

Her mother had a pinched look on her face, but she quickly turned it to a warm smile when she realized Pansy was looking at her. "Your father and I also have an early gift for you. It wouldn't be right not to have it today."

Niobe Parkinson passed Pansy a long, rectangular box wrapped in a rich purple with a silver bow.

It was customary to give witches and wizards a watch for their seventeenth birthday. Pansy had been expecting one, although she was excited all the same. She loved receiving jewelry. Inside was a beautiful Goblin-made rose gold watch set with diamonds. On the back was the inscription, _Happy Birthday Pansy, love Mum, Dad and_ _Rowan_. Pansy immediately put it on her wrist, thanking both her parents.

It was truly beautiful and she couldn't wait to show it off at her birthday party.

xXxXx

Graham apparated on the front step of his mother's house in Morgana's Circle. It was a rather dodgy wizarding community on the outskirts of Liverpool. Most of the houses were boarded up or in disrepair. One had been burned to the ground. There was a decrepit looking black house on the corner with a DO NOT ENTER sign that Graham was certain belonged to a vampire.

It was still loads better than the flat in Knockturn Alley he had grown up in. At least here, Ellie had room to go outside and play in the backyard while his mum could keep a small garden. Graham quietly tested the wards surrounding the property, making sure his mother and half-sister were safe. He didn't quite trust the neighbours not to break in one night. His mother was not the best dueller in the world and Graham worried she would end up on the losing side if there was ever an intruder. Times were getting hard in the wizarding world and petty crime was on the rise.

Graham knocked on the screen door before letting himself in. "Mum? Ellie? I'm here!"

"GRAHAM!" came the cry of a rather excitable eleven-year-old girl. Ellie barreled into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and jumping up and down. "You're here to take me to Diagon, right? Mum says I can go, but only with you!"

All the disappearances and murders in the Daily Prophet made his mother nervous, despite Graham's insistence that she and Ellie were perfectly safe. As a result, they rarely ventured to other wizarding locations unless it was absolutely necessary. Getting Ellie fitted for Hogwarts had been deemed necessary so Graham had offered to take her.

Lauren Montague followed behind her daughter. She had been beautiful once, but years of stress had taken its toll on her. Her hair was prematurely gray, there was too many worry lines in her face and Graham couldn't help but wonder if she had been sleeping lately for there were prominent bags under her eyes. She looked thin and frail, like one hex would finish her off.

His mother tried to give him a pouch to pay for Ellie's school supplies, but he wouldn't take it.

"Graham – " his mother protested.

He ignored her though. He was in a position where he could help them for once. Graham made a decent enough salary through his internship at the Department of Magical Sports and Games. There was no need to see them pinching knuts to send Ellie to school.

With a sad smile, she patted him on the cheek. "You're a good man. I'm so glad you're not – " she swallowed, cutting herself off and not finishing the sentence.

He could hear the unspoken _like your father_ in her voice. The topic of his biological father was one that rarely came up. His mother would only get this dead look in her eyes and shake her head whenever he asked as a boy. As a young man, Graham stopped asking once he realized it seemed to distress her. Whoever his father was, he was long gone and Graham doubted he would ever meet him. He couldn't help but hate the man who had abandoned them.

"Ellie, behave for your brother. Don't let go of his hand and for Merlin's sake don't wander off on your own. I don't feel comfortable with all those Death Eaters still out there."

Graham uncomfortably scratched his left arm, wondering if he should let her know that Ellie had more to fear from the Order than the Death Eaters. It was probably best to not mention the war. His mother had nothing to do with either sides so she wasn't a target.

"We'll be fine, Mum, Death Eaters aren't interested in bothering little kids. Come on Ellie, we best get a move on." Graham offered a hand to his sister so that he could apparate them to Diagon Alley.

Once there, he let her drag him up and down the cobblestone streets, listening to her happy chatter. Graham struggled to keep up with her high energy. That was saying something, considering he was in pretty top shape and played in the recreational Quidditch league on Saturdays.

Ellie stopped outside Ollivander's, looking disappointed at the closed sign in the window. Graham knew she was looking forward to picking out her own wand and now she'd have to settle for a second-hand one from Borgin and Burkes. The hazel wand with a unicorn hair seemed to suit her though, not as well as her own wand would have, but it had sent yellow sparks in the air at her touch. He then led her into Greengrass Apothecary for her potions supplies. Jason was leaning on the counter when they walked in.

"She's going to need the Hogwarts Starter Kit," Graham told him.

"That's right; you're off to Howarts this year, aren't you?" Jason kindly asked Ellie. "What House do you think you'll get?"

"Slytherin," Ellie happily told him. "Like my brother."

Graham smiled and ruffled her hair. He had her pegged as a Hufflepuff and hoped she wasn't picked on too much. He remembered being the bully who had hexed more than one Hufflepuff girl to tears. It made him slightly uncomfortable to think about that girl being Ellie. At least he could pull some of the older Slytherins aside and warn them to watch out for her. There was a couple who owed him favours and maybe his position as a Death Eater might inspire fear in others.

"You going to Parkinson's tonight?" Jason asked. "Her parents are throwing her this huge party, everyone will be there."

Graham shrugged as he watched his sister inspected the tiny vials of potions on the shelves. "Sure, why not?"

xXxXx

Pansy accompanied her father to Gringotts that afternoon. The cobblestone streets were empty, save for Graham Montague who was being tugged around by a little girl. Pansy smirked at the sight. Who knew the former, brutish Quidditch captain had a soft spot for kids?

She walked past the many leering goblins, weighing gold at their tills, not bothering to even acknowledge them with a glance. They were beneath her notice. At the far end of the hall was the Head Goblin standing on a tall podium. When they reached him, her father cleared his throat.

"We have an appointment with Lockjaw at two."

The goblin pushed up his glasses on his nose and peered down at them. He made a big show of looking at a gold pocket watch before determining they were there just moments before two. Goblins did not care for wizards who were too early or too late. Slowly, he said, "This way, then."

They were ushered into an office in the back. Her father always insisted on using the same goblin for family business, although one of the creatures was the same as any of them in Pansy's opinion.

"You wished to access vault three hundred and seventy-two?" Lockjaw asked, his beady black eyes looking from Cyrus to Pansy. There was a sneer to his voice as he regarded Pansy that immediately put her on edge. "The vault set aside for a daughter of the Noble and Ancient House of Parkinson."

"Yes. We will be requiring a set of keys to be cut for Pansy as well as financial papers. I trust that everything is in order."

The goblin tapped a yellow, long nail on the desk. A cruel smile twisted on the wretched creature's face. "The girl carries the Parkinson name and the Parkinson blood, but she is not a true daughter. I am unable to provide Ms Parkinson with a key to the vault."

Pansy was enraged at the nerve of the goblin, denying her. It was probably insinuating that she was born out of wedlock or some such nonsense. The rules of inheritance for the old families had changed over the last century, but even if they hadn't, Pansy's parents had been married for several years before her birth. She was about to speak when her father put a hand on her shoulder.

"Pansy is my daughter and you will allow her access to her vault," her father spoke slowly, as if explaining something to a very young and stupid child. "We will resolve this matter and then I will seek to your superiors to ensure that there are no further problems."

"As you command, sir," the goblin said, a smirk on its face.

Pansy felt a sense of foreboding. The goblin was a little too accommodating despite the threat to go to its superiors. If Pansy knew anything about goblins, it was that they were tricky, bloodthirsty creatures that took delight in creating problems for wizarding folk.

With a snap of his fingers, a knife with a beautiful and intricately carved bone handle appeared along with a scroll of parchment.

Lockjaw handed her the knife and gestured to the parchment. Pansy hesitated for a moment, but then she used the blade to slash open the palm of her left hand. Her blood splattered onto the parchment and she hissed from the sting. Pansy conjured a cloth to wrap over her hand and then turned to the piece of parchment. Her heart hammered in her chest.

" _Stemmilo_ ," her father said. It was an unfamiliar spell, but Pansy knew Hogwarts would never teach them blood magic. That was something she knew her father planned on remedying now that she could practice magic outside of school.

The blood splatter seeped into the paper and neat red ink appeared. Her name, Pansy Parkinson, had a vertical line over it that then split into two horizontal lines. These lines were connected to names. The one to the right connected her to her mother, Niobe Rowle, and continued further into the Rowle family tree, listing her grandparents and great-grandparents. The line to the left connected her to an unfamiliar name, Richard Parkinson, and extended into a family tree that Pansy didn't recognize.

"This can't be possible," her father said. His face turned bright red as he bellowed, "This must be some trickery on your part, you loathsome little creature! Get me a proper wizard!"

Lockjaw smiled, pointy teeth showing. "I told you, the girl isn't a true daughter. No wizard magic can change that."

xXxXx

 _B,_

 _I hope my owl finds you well and safe. I would like to leave him in your hands for the time being. As you no doubt have heard, the Minister has been assassinated and the Ministry is going through some changes. Given my position on the matter, it is no longer safe for me to continue working there. I will be going underground for the time being._

 _It may be some time before I can reach you again, especially once you are away at Hogwarts. I would not want to put you at any risk among your peers. If you have any need to reach me, I encourage you to seek out M._

 _It is my greatest regret that I was not there for you as a child as I should have been. I know I do not hold much influence in your life, but I do beg you listen to my advice. Whatever your thoughts are on blood purity, I hope you stay out of that madman's grasp. Do not throw your life away serving someone who is willing to burn our world to the ground. He has no true respect for blood purity, only that it is a cause to rally people behind him._

 _Stay safe, and keep your head down. Burn this letter along with any others you may have. As much as it pains me to admit, our relationship might put you in danger in the upcoming months._

 _Uncle K_

Blaise Zabini read the letter over and over, as if committing its contents to memory. Eventually, Blaise tapped the letter with his wand and it burst into flames.

For years, it had been just him and his mother, the infamous Elena Zabini. His father had died when he was four and with his death came a wall of silence from his entire paternal family. He and his mother had swiftly moved to her home country, Italy, but Blaise remembered questioning his mother why Grandma and Grandpa didn't love him any more.

It wasn't until he was accepted at Hogwarts and came back to England that he realized that the silence came from the blame and resentment the Shacklebolt family had for his mother. They firmly believed she had killed their son, although no court had been able to prove it. His mother had a reputation in England and his father was the third husband who had died _tragically_ before his time. He wasn't the last either. Between the ages of five and fifteen, Blaise had watched his mother re-marry and bury four more husbands.

When they moved in with his mother's latest husband last summer, Blaise discovered a box of letters, hidden away among his mother's things. Over half of them were addressed to him. There were letters from his grandparents and his uncle wishing him Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday every year. Offers for him visit during the summers and holidays. And then a particularly heart-wrenching letter three years ago from his grandmother pleading with his mother to let her see her only grandchild. She was sick and dying of some magical ailment and it was her wish to see Blaise.

His mother had been denying Blaise the opportunity to know his father's family for over a decade. In a fit of rage towards her, Blaise had decided to write to his only living relative left on his father's side of the family, his uncle Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Kingsley had written him back. Letter by letter, Blaise got to know his uncle and through stories, his biological father. By the time the Christmas holidays had rolled around, Blaise had plans to meet up with his uncle. He hadn't told his mother, just allowed her to believe he was meeting up with his friends. They went to the Auror Academy on New Years Eve when it was empty and Kingsley taught him proper wizarding duelling.

Blaise was no fool and knew his uncle was neck deep in the war. Still, he made time for Blaise as often as he could. He wrote letters that were full of the paternal advice that Blaise craved and lacked for so long. The role had been filled off and on by his many step-fathers, but Blaise had always known better than to get attached to them. Uncle Kingsley, however, was reliable.

And just as he was learning to trust him, Blaise realized that Kingsley was going to get himself killed in this damn war.

xXxXx

Pansy sat perfectly straight on the couch next to her mother and brother. She was tucked as far into the corner as she could, disgusted at being anywhere near her mother at the moment. Tear tracks streamed down her eyes, although she had cried herself dry multiple times already. Rowan had been quietly fuming ever since his own parentage had been called into question. Several parchments were laid out in front of them, each showing the exact same thing. Pansy and Rowan were not the children of Cyrus Parkinson, but rather a man named Richard Parkinson.

There was a heavy silence as the four of them starred at the parchments. Pansy was still in shock, although it had been an hour since she first learned that she was not who she had always believed herself to be; Pansy Parkinson, the pure-blood daughter to Cyrus Parkinson and a member of the Ancient and Noble House of Parkinson. Now she was Pansy Parkinson, a witch of questionable blood status and uncertain heritage. Pansy had learned the Parkinson family tree at a young age and to the best of her knowledge, she had no distinct relatives named Richard.

"Explain yourself," Cyrus slowly ground out, looking at his wife in disgust.

"It was nine years, Cyrus, and I had done everything I could. The Healers said there was nothing wrong with me, but you refused – "

"Don't you dare blame this on me!" Cyrus thundered.

"If you weren't so _threatened_ by the idea that you might be sterile – "

With a violent snap of his wand, Cyrus cast a stringing hex. Immediately, Niobe covered the cheek where she had been hit. The angry red peaked out from between her fingers as if she had been slapped.

Pansy cringed in fright. Never had her father raised his wand to anyone in their family. He was a stern wizard whose approval was hard to earn and he rarely showed affection, but he was never cruel.

"I am not sterile."

Niobe, removing her hand, gave a rather vicious smile. "Then why wouldn't you prove it? Just one simple test at St Mungo's. Instead, you threw me into the dragon pit, saying that I was the problem when really, it was _you_. It didn't take nearly as long with Richard."

Another hex. This time Niobe didn't react, only starred defiantly at her husband.

"Who is this Richard Parkinson?" Cyrus asked. "You can tell me of your own free will, or I will have Hyperion Greengrass brew me Veritaserurm and I will force you to take it."

Evenly, Niobe said, "Richard Parkinson is a muggle man."

" _No_!" Pansy shrieked, her mouth falling open in shock. Her entire life, her mother had taught her that being a pure-blood and being a Parkinson made her special. Now she was taking both away from her.

"The name Parkinson is common enough in the muggle world, and I knew as long as the surname showed up on magical documents, most wouldn't press the issue. So I found a muggle that looked enough like you."

Pansy's heart caught in her throat as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. "Daddy – "

"Don't – " he couldn't even look at her. Instead, he kept his eyes on her mother. "I'm not your father."

"Cyrus, please."

Cyrus thrust a finger in front of her mother's face. "Don't you start you vile – you _whore_! You've been passing off your half-blood bastards as my children for seventeen years. You've shamed me and shamed the house of my fathers. I ought to throw you out on the street with the gutter rats and filthy muggles, where you belong."

The only sound in the room was Cyrus' heavy breathing. His face was almost purple in anger and no one dared say a word.

"What about the party?" Niobe suddenly asked. Only Niobe Parkinson would still care about a party at a time like this. "Guests will be arriving in just a few hours."

Pansy was no longer in the mood for a birthday party, but she knew she'd be forced to attend in the event that it still happened. She was the guest of honour after all.

There was a long minute as Cyrus contemplated what to do. Finally, he said, "We will have the party and no one will breathe a word your betrayal. I don't want a scandal until I've decided how to handle it."

With that, he stormed out of the room.

xXxXx

" _Lumos_."

Nephele walked down the steps of the family crypts below Rose Manor. Her footsteps echoed on the stone steps. The glow of her wand triggered the torches, and soon the entire path was illuminated casting eerie shadows on the lifelike statues. It had given her the creeps as a child when she came down once a year to pay her respects to her father. She used to swear to her mother that the statues could move. Not that Regina Rosier paid much attention to her daughter's fears.

These days, creepy shadows did not spook her. She had seen much worse.

Nephele knelled at the most recent marble statue, conjuring a wrath intertwined with dark red roses. The statue had been carved into the likeness of her father, Evan Rosier.

She had just turned four when he was murdered. Her memories were very faded, but sometimes she could remember him taking her flying on his broom. Or the way he would pick her up and swing her around. He had written her letters too, and she received one every year for her birthday until the day she turned seventeen. He had had the foresight that he might be killed or imprisoned and wanted to leave something for his only child. She felt closer to her father through those annual letters than she ever had to her mother.

"Hi Dad," she said, sitting on the cold stones next to his statue. She had been visiting his grave more often lately, hoping for guidance that her mother could never provide. It was the closest relationship she could have with her father, the wizard she had idolized her entire life. "I would have come sooner, but things have been really busy the last week."

"I've been marked," she proudly told him. She rolled up the sheer black sleeve of her robes to better show the Mark.

The pain had been unimaginable, unlike any she had ever experienced, and that included all the times Rabastan used the Cruciatus Curse on her. Nephele remembered spending the night in Malfoy Manor after being marked, shaking and crying from it. The boys hadn't faired any better and it eased her bruised pride to know it wasn't because she was weak. Graham had thrown up afterwards and Jason had fainted.

"The boys were marked too. It was after a chase where we duelled the Order in the skies. Mad-Eye Moody was killed, knocked off his broom. They found his body and disfigured it at Malfoy Manor before burning it."

She had always dreamed of confronting her father's murderer. As much as she wished it had been by her wand, she was glad the retired Auror was gone from their world.

"I should get going, Mother expects me to go to the party the Parkinsons are having for their daughter. I'll come back soon."

With that, she stood up and exited the crypts. Rose Manor was a large and cold house. It was too empty and loveless to really think of it as a home. Nephele shivered as she climbed upstairs to her room. When she had turned seventeen, she had inherited her father's estate and took over the master bedroom. Her mother had long since moved out, preferring to live in a townhouse in London.

"Nephy, darling," her mother purred, "I've been looking for you all over. It's time to get ready."

Nephele felt the urge to violently stab something every time her mother called her that disgusting pet name. Instead, she pulled her mouth into what passed for a smile. "I was just visiting the crypts. It's been quite some time."

Regina said nothing, and just passed her dress robes in a deep, blood red. There was a rather deep plunge in the neckline, but it had long sleeves that would cover her Dark Mark. Being both a witch and a Death Eater was a problem as far as fashion was concerned. Nephele couldn't wait until she could be more open.

"Never let it be said that Gryffindors have the monopoly on the colour red," Regina said, almost lovingly patting Nephele's cheek. "You are an absolute vision. Have you decided which of them you prefer? Not the half-blood, surely."

"Excuse me?"

"Those three young wizards you've got under your thumb. You've got them well trained, you must be giving them a little _something_ in return," Regina said with a wink. "A mother knows these things."

Her mother knew nothing. Jason, Cassius and Graham were her _friends_. She wasn't toying with them until she picked a husband. Of course, that wasn't something Regina could possibly understand. Nephele had heard the whispers among the Death Eaters, wondering if the daughter was anything like the mother. She could feel their eyes linger on her, freely roaming her body and making her skin crawl.

She'd show them all exactly who's daughter she was. Nephele Iseult Rosier was not a witch to be fucked with.

xXxXx

Pansy wandered her birthday party, a glass of elf wine in hand and a fake smile plastered on her face. Among all the pure-blood heirs and heiresses, she felt like a fraud. What would these people say once they knew the truth? She was the same person and yet she was not. She was lesser than them and that hurt more than anything had in her life. Even people like those no-talent lowlifes Greg Goyle and Vincent Crabbe were pure-bloods. _Millicent Bulstrode_ was a pure-blood. The Weasleys, blood-traitors that they were, were pure-bloods. Pansy wanted to lash out and scream at the unfairness of it all.

She nearly did scream, but that was because someone tapped her on the shoulder and startled her out of her brooding thoughts.

"Happy Birthday, pretty witch," Blaise greeted her. He gave her a kiss on the cheek that lingered a second too long and might as well have been the corner of her mouth. It was far more intimate than a kiss between friends.

Pansy sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Who is she this time?"

"Little Greengrass."

Sure enough, Astoria Greengrass was standing with her little cluster of friends, pretending not to watch Blaise and Pansy. Blaise liked to have his little flings, but was never one for ending them. He just let the relationship fizzle out, letting the girl be the one to finally decide enough was enough. If they didn't get the hint soon enough, Blaise would flirt with Pansy or Daphne in public and that was a surefire way to end things. Each girl knew his reputation and deluded themselves into thinking they were something special and that they would be the one to change Blaise's bad boy ways.

Pansy sincerely doubted he would change for any of the little tarts he flirted with. She just wished he hadn't decided to fool around with her best girl friend's little sister. She had some limits.

"One of these days you're going to have to learn to break up with them like a big boy."

Blaise stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and gave her a boyish smile. "Until then, I have you."

"Happy Birthday Pansy!" A lilting voice chimed in at that moment.

Pansy put on her most pleasant smile as she looked at the trio of girls. Astoria Greengrass had come over with backup, her little friends Emilia Avery and Isabel Wilkes trailed behind her.

"Thank you," Pansy said, hugging each of the younger girls. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"We're having a wonderful time," Astoria loftily said. "I didn't realize the two of you were an item. Congratulations. It's nice that you've finally moved on from Draco."

Astoria was too polite to cause a scene. She enjoyed making people uncomfortable instead, hiding behind a pretty smile and polite words. Pansy had trained her young protegee well.

"What's Fiona _Greystone_ doing here?" Astoria asked, lowering her voice so that only they could hear.

Pansy followed Astoria's line of sight, finding the witch in question talking to Jason Greengrass. Astoria was always a little possessive of her older brother and hated other witches sniffing around him.

"My mother invited her. Apparently she's making quite the name for herself in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. People are calling her the next Amelia Bones."

"Well, if she's interested in Jason she might as well be," Astoria said. Amelia Bones had been married to her job and her lack of a love life was the speculation of many pure-bloods. Astoria tilted her head as she watched Fiona twist a lock of hair around her finger. There was an amused, but unreadable, expression on her face. "She's a half-blood. Jason would never dirty our line by marrying or, Salazar forbid, breeding with one. "

One of Astoria's minions decided to pipe in at that moment. Looking to her little ring leader for approval, Isabel Wilkes said, "It's disgusting really. She'll learn her place quick enough."

"Half-blood witches are nothing but whores," Emilia Avery sniffed.

Something inside Pansy snapped at that moment. "Do excuse us girls. I was just about to give Blaise a tour of the manor, he's been here so often for parties, but he's never seen outside of this room."

Blaise looked surprised, but agreed with her. He did owe her. "It's true. Such a shame, I hear Mrs Parkinson has quite the art collection."

"Come," Pansy said, leading him away from the girls. "I'll give you the complete tour."

She grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses from a house-elf as she pulled Blaise out of the ballroom and upstairs to her bedroom. She was already a dirty half-blood, she might as well be a whore too. One was much more fun than the other.


	3. Cloris Carrow (Bitchy Witchy)

**Snakes and Ladders**

by ChatterChick

Summary: Climbing through the ranks of the Death Eaters is the easy part. Staying there is another story. The tale of twelve Slytherins and their ups and downs during the second war. Includes: Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, Cassius Warrington, Graham Montague along with Original Characters, Jason Greengrass, Nephele Rosier, Cloris Carrow and Annie Runcorn.

* * *

 _ **Cloris Carrow** (Bitchy Witchy)_

Merlin's balls, she had to be born a ginger.

Cloris Carrow scowled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Too many freckles. Lank, copper hair. Mud brown eyes. She had been teased for years that she was the long-lost Weasley daughter. People thought it was _funny_ to ask if she had been separated from Ginny Weasley at birth. Well, that wouldn't be happening this year. Cloris was going to take matters into her own hands.

"You'd look prettier if you smiled," the enchanted mirror snootily told her.

"Oh shut up before I smash you."

It had been an on-going battle for years. She had carried through on the threat twice before and those stupid mirrors had died a quick and violent death. They were always replaced by her mother, who didn't think that that was acceptable behaviour by a 'young lady'. Her father had only laughed, saying that the mirrors deserved what they got.

Cloris pulled out the Black-Hair Potion she had purchased from Greengrass Apothecary. She skimmed over the instructions before hopping into the shower. She made sure her hair was wet before rubbing the potion into it as if it were a shampoo. She did it twice, as instructed, to make sure no red hair remained and even worked a tiny amount into her eyebrows to darken them as well.

After she toweled herself dry, she walked into her bedroom and sat down at her vanity to brush out her wet hair. Pinned to the wall was the wanted poster of Bellatrix Lestrange, Cloris' idol. Part of the desire to dye her hair was to look more like Madame Lestrange. Unfortunately, Cloris' hair was thick and hung like curtains while Madame Lestrange had curly, wild black hair. No amount of charms or cosmetic potions would ever get her hair to hold curls like those. At least now she looked more like a proper dark witch and less like a blood-traitor.

Her father was a Death Eater and he said that if she pulled her grades up and stayed out of trouble, then he would introduce her to Madame Lestrange after her seventeenth birthday. He would also see about her becoming a Death Eater. Cloris smiled at her reflection in the mirror. That had been more than enough motivation last year to pull through her OWLs.

Deciding that her appearance was as good as it was ever going to get, Cloris joined her parents and sisters downstairs for breakfast.

"Mother, Father," Cloris blandly greeted them. Her father was reading _The Daily Prophet_ while her older sisters, Flora and Hestia, sat quietly at the table. Their mother scurried around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the family. Despite being an old pure-blood family, the Carrows' wealth had dwindled over the years to nearly nothing. Their ancestral home had been sold long before Cloris had been born and when the family house-elf had died, they didn't have the gold to replace him.

"Your hair!" Her mother screeched when she turned around to greet her daughter. Cressida Carrow dramatically clutched her chest at her daughter's sudden change in appearance."What did you do to it?"

Cloris just shrugged her shoulders and ignored her. She helped herself to some of the bacon and eggs laid out on self-heating plates.

Her father's eyes barely flickered up from the newspaper. "At least she no longer looks like a blood-traitor's daughter," he sneered.

Her mother immediately fell silent. Cressida had been born a Prewett, a family that had become more embarrassing as time went on. Especially after her cousin married a Weasley and spawned seven of them. Cloris hoped to burn all connections to that particular branch of the family tree.

"Letters from Hogwarts arrived earlier," Cressida broke the tense silence, "These must be your OWL and NEWT results, and - oh, Amycus, there's a letter for you from Severus as well."

Her mother passed a thick envelope to each of them. There were relieved smiles on Flora and Hestia's faces as they read their results.

"Nine NEWTs," Flora announced, "and that's for both of us."

Amycus absently nodded as he read his own letter. He barely noticed any of their successes, only their failures. Flora and Hestia had long since learned how to sneak by unnoticed in their family.

Cloris' stomach sank as she read her own results. She had only done well in Defence and Herbology, getting an Exceeds Expectations in each. The rest were a scattering of Poors and Acceptables and one lone Troll in Transfiguration. In total, she had passed Defence, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy and Charms. "I have five OWLs."

That caught her father's attention, he snatched the report out of her hands. "A pureblood daughter of the House of Carrow and you failed Transfiguration?"

She could feel her cheeks burn in indignation. "I don't test well, I'm much better at spellcasting and McGonagall favours - "

" _Silencio_ ," Amycus shut her up with a silencing spell. His face was red too, only it was with rage. "You're an embarrassment to your bloodline. Generations of Carrows have led to you, and you let mudbloods, half-bloods and blood-traitors beat you."

Cloris opened her mouth to protest, but her voice was gone due to the spell. She had learned long ago that her mother and sisters weren't much help. No one would dare direct Amycus' rage onto themselves when he was worked up like this. Indeed, her mother had disappeared into the kitchen and her sisters were starring down at the table. Cloris clenched her jaw as her father looked thoughtfully at her. The rage was replaced by a cold, calculating look. There was a ugly smile on his face that Cloris had grown to both fear and hate.

"If you disappoint the Dark Lord _half_ as much as you disappoint me, then you better get used to pain, girl."

Her father raised his wand and Cloris braced herself for the curse.

xXxXx

Daphne and Astoria shifted through the little vials kept in the backroom of Greengrass Apothecary. Their father wanted them to clean it out and do an inventory of all the ingredients and potions before they went back to Hogwarts. It was a boring, mindless task so they gossiped as they worked, trading details of Pansy's birthday party. Daphne had spent the evening with Theodore Nott and missed out on everything else. Not that she particularly minded.

"Mr and Mrs Parkinson seemed tense the entire time. They wouldn't stop bickering," Astoria prattled on. "Mother thinks something's going on there, but knowing the Parkinsons they're just going to sweep it under the rug and pretend everything's perfect."

Daphne could barely hear her sister's words. Her mind had drifted back to that night. Theo was a graceful dancer, Daphne mused. Her waist tingled as if his hand held her there now. Her lips tingled too, and Daphne lost count of the vials as she remembered slipping off from the party. They had shared a few kisses in Mrs Parkinson's gardens, before they had been chased out by Pansy's annoying little brother and his equally annoying friends.

"And don't even get me started on _Pansy_!"

That snapped Daphne out of her daydreaming. She was surprised at Astoria's cold tone towards her best friend. Sure, Pansy could be a bit much at times, but Astoria had never been bothered by it before. "What happened with Pansy?"

"She left with Blaise. It was all _anyone_ would talk about. They weren't even subtle about it."

"Tori - " Daphne tried to console her younger sister. She had tried to warn Astoria at the time. She had known Blaise for years and he wasn't really boyfriend material. Not like Theodore. But Astoria was stubborn and insisted things were different, that _she_ was different.

"It's fine. Whatever. I always knew Blaise was an arse, but I didn't expect that from Pansy. She's always going on about the Witch Code and how us witches need to stand up for each other, but I guess that only applies when she doesn't want people dating _her_ ex."

Daphne wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. Pansy had always been wildly possessive of Draco. If she couldn't have him, then no one could.

Before Daphne could respond, they were interrupted.

"How much of the Blood Replenishing Potion is left?" Jason appeared in the doorway. "St Mungo's sent in an order for two dozen for September first."

"There's six vials back here," Daphne said, looking down at her inventory sheet. "And if you have time, we need more Painless Potion."

"I'll add it to my list," Jason said, rubbing a hand over the scruff he left on his chin. "I also have an order for Mr Nott. Daphne, I don't suppose you could bring it over?"

"Sure thing," Daphne brightly agreed. With any luck, Theo would be home.

xXxXx

The guard stationed at the Hogwarts Express gave her a polite nod as he checked her identity card and allowed her onto the train. Cloris had been warned by her father that changes had been made at Hogwarts and it was all for the better. So far the changes seemed more like a hassle. It wasn't like any mudbloods would dare show up for school, not with the Ministry rounding them up and giving them trials.

Cloris roamed the corridors, bored out of her mind. Her sisters had dropped her off at the platform early that morning, before disappearing to the Ministry for whatever dull little internships they had been given. At least other students were starting to arrive now.

"Cloris! Wait up!" A breathless voice reached her eyes. Cloris kept walking, pretending not to hear her name being called. There wasn't anyone she was particularly thrilled to see now that they were going back to Hogwarts. "Cloris!"

She hated the other girls in her dorm. They were the typical, beautiful empty-headed snooty little pure-blood witches. They were perfectly polite when talking to her, but she knew that they thought they were better than her. Their smiles were a little too forced and their words laced with too much sugar. They would give each other these secret, amused little looks whenever Cloris spoke. They had done nothing wrong per say, but Cloris knew they didn't like her. So she was stuck with the boring half-blood, Annie Runcorn, as a friend.

She would have preferred to be friendless. It was embarrassing that she couldn't befriend anyone from a proper wizarding family. Her father had been horrified after her first year and punished her for it, although he eventually agreed that half-bloods could be useful on occasion. She supposed Annie was someone to talk to at the end of the day and someone to partner with in class.

With great effort, she slowed down and turned to face the girl.

"What?" Cloris halfheartedly barked at Annie.

Annie was a plain looking girl with a heart-shaped face and mousy brown hair. Nothing special and easily looked over, especially since she was about as quiet as a mouse. Cloris wondered time and time again how the girl ended up in Slytherin and not Hufflepuff.

Annie just stupidly blinked at her. "I just thought - did you want to find a compartment? We can sit and catch up. I haven't heard from you all summer."

"I was busy," she vaguely replied. In truth, she tended to forget about the other girl when they were away from school.

"Oh, that's fine. I was really busy too," Annie said with a tiny smile. "I think I saw an empty compartment a few doors down. There's not as many students this year."

Cloris allowed Annie to lead them to the compartment, not really listening as the other girl prattled on about everything that had happened since they parted ways in June.

"Father's been promoted at work. Actually, one of your sisters works for his department. Hestia? I think? He's been assigned to the Muggle-Born Registration Committee - "

It was then that someone knocked into Cloris on their way by. "Hey! Watch where you're going - "

Immediately, she recognized the flash of red hair. _Weasley_. She was flanked by her fellow sixth year Gryffindor, Demelza Robins, and the village idiot, Luna Lovegood. Cloris couldn't help but grin as she clutched her wand. Oh, how she had missed being able to actually use it. All the times she had had to just stand by and allow her father to curse her and not be able to fight back. She was itching to provoke Weasley into a fight and get a good hex or two in.

Cloris locked eyes with Weasley and sneered. "Where's your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend. He dumped me and ran off with Granger."

That was really no surprise. Potter had grown up with muggles and the mudblood probably stank like his childhood home.

"Well, I'd watch my back, if I were you," Cloris couldn't help but taunt the other girl. There was no one in the school she hated as much as Weasley. "The Gryffindors aren't going to be the little pets this year and you don't have Harry Potter or any of your brothers to protect you no more."

Cloris was expecting Weasley to yell or start throwing hexes. The girl was hot-headed and it never took much to provoke her before. Cloris held her wand, waiting in anticipation. She'd show her father that she was better than a blood-traitor. Instead, Lovegood just put a hand on Weasley's arm.

"Ginny doesn't need anyone to protect her, she's a capable witch," Lovegood airily said. She tugged on the sleeve of Weasley's school robes. "Come Ginny, she's just looking for a fight."

The three girls walked away, leaving Cloris to deal with her mounting frustration. When Annie put a hand on her shoulder, Cloris shrugged her off and snarled. "Get off me! Let's just get a compartment before they all fill up with filth."

xXxXx

"Cloris, wait for - "

The door to the common room swung shut and Annie sighed. She had known for years that the other girl didn't care for her much. Still, she preferred Cloris' harshness than the fake niceties of the other girls in her dormitory. Sometimes she even convinced herself that Cloris didn't hate her as much as she acted. There were times the two sat up all night talking where it felt like they were friends.

Annie swung her bag over her shoulder and trailed after her friend. Only to be stopped as soon as she left the Slytherin common room.

"Ms Runcorn? A word in my office, please," Professor Slughorn was standing in the dungeons. Annie hadn't even realized the old professor knew her name. He had always been quick to brush over her in class for his favourites.

His face was pained, and Annie felt a flutter of worry. She had always been a good student and while her grades weren't the best, they weren't bad either. Was she in trouble? The atmosphere inside Slughorn's office did nothing to put her fears at ease. There was a man and a woman inside, both wearing the emerald cloaks with the Auror insignia on the left breast pocket.

"There was an incident at the Ministry earlier today," Slughorn explained, "your father was impersonated by Harry Potter. Aurors Dawlish and Proudfoot are here to ask you a few questions."

"O-okay," Annie agreed.

For the next hour, Annie was interrogated by the pair of Aurors. It was pointless, of course, Annie had only ever seen Potter at a distance. The Ministry was desperate to catch him and asked her question after question. Had Potter had any previous contact with the Runcorns? Did she know where he would go next? What was Annie's relationship with Potter? By the time they were finished, Annie had no desire to eat dinner. She hide in the library, where she was eventually joined by Cloris.

Cloris dropped her books down with a heavy thud and grumbled that they had too much homework and it was only the first day. The next five minutes stretched out between them as Cloris set to work and Annie sat silently, with tears in her eyes.

"It's my father," Annie snapped, even more upset now that her friend couldn't even be bothered to ask what was wrong. "He was impersonated by Harry Potter at work and now he's facing an inquiry! Madame Umbridge isn't happy about it and he might be sacked!"

Annie shared a look with her supposedly best friend, but the girl did not offer any comfort and only raised her eyebrows.

"Well," Cloris said hesitantly, "He did get outsmarted by Potter. He probably deserves it."

"Cloris!" Annie gasped.

"You know what? You're upset and not able to be reasonable right now, so I'm going to go before this snowballs out of control." Cloris picked up her books and left the library after that. Annie buried her head in her arms and cried. She had always known their friendship was flimsy at best, but Cloris could at least try after all the times Annie had been there for her!

"Are you okay?" Lovegood asked.

Annie nearly jumped out of her skin. She had no idea when the other girl had joined her. "I'm fine."

"No," Lovegood simply said, "you just don't want to talk about it with me. That's okay, I just thought I'd ask."

"Wait - I - " As much as Professor Slughorn said his door was always open, Annie knew he didn't truly mean it. He really couldn't be bothered with the likes of her. No one in Slytherin could. She was average at best; a half-blood from a family that had no power in their world. Looking into Lovegood's kind eyes, Annie spilled her story to the only sympathetic ear.

"It's not his fault," Lovegood gently assured her, "and it's not the first time Harry broke into the Ministry. Their security is lacking. Last time we walked through the front door."

"You did?"

"Oh yes. Through the visitor phone booths. They gave us these little badges with our names on them." Lovegood was digging through her back now and pulled out a pair of biscuits and an apple. "I'm afraid it's all I have, but I didn't see you at dinner. We can go to the kitchens if you're hungry."

"No - that's - " Annie struggled to find words. "Thank you, for everything."

xXxXx

Hogwarts was unrecognizable without Professor Dumbledore. It was _wonderful_. Mudbloods no longer roamed the halls, nor did Potter for that matter. The students in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were noticeably subdued. Before they had walked around like they owned the place, but now they were quiet and barely seen outside of class or meals. Professor Snape had come down hard at the Welcome Feast, reinstating all of Madame Umbridge's old education decrees along with a good dozen more. Cloris' father and aunt were both on staff and were there to help make some improvements to the curriculum.

Cloris couldn't help but walk with a bounce in her step as she went to her first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. She couldn't wait to see the looks on the Gryffindors' faces when her father put them in their place. Without Dumbledore, they were no longer the beloved pets of the school.

Students were milling outside the classroom when she arrived. Like all NEWT classes, the four houses were together. Defence Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies were mandatory for the year, making it a large class. Although, Cloris realized with a smirk, they were missing several mudbloods so it all balanced out in the end.

The door to the classroom opened and her father appeared, scowling at the lot of them. "Well? What are you waiting for? I haven't got all day and Merlin knows there's a lot to cover. Get in now."

The sixth year class scurried into the Defence classroom. For the first time in her entire education, Cloris took a seat in the front row.

"I thought I'd begin today with a demonstration, see what you can do," Amycus told them, "Professor Snape left me a detailed report with all the material covered your first five years. Unfortunately, it seems that your education has been lacking, as much as Professor Snape tried to remedy that last year. Can I have two volunteers?"

Cloris immediately stuck her hand in the air, eager to prove herself. For years, Cloris had protested that her grades were low because she tested poorly and that she was better at practical. She had told her parents that Dumbledore's staff all favoured the Gryffindors and were easier on them. Obviously Professor Snape was the only fair professor. His was the only class that pure-blood Slytherins did better in. Not that Cloris was particularly brilliant at potions, but she was better than her Gryffindor peers. She would show her father that she wasn't a failure of a witch.

"Thank you, Ms Carrow," Amycus said, a calculating look in his eyes. "And what about - Ms Weasley? Professor Snape said you were quite talented."

So he was testing her, pitting her against Weasley. Fine, she would show him. The two girls faced each other in the front of the class.

"On the count of three, you're going to duel. Nothing that will cause any permanent damage and nothing you can't undo," Amycus said. "There are such tedious forms when a student has to go to the hospital wing. Ready? Three - two - one."

Immediately, Cloris fired her best Bloody-Nose Jinx at Weasley. She yelled the curse, but Weasley easily deflected it with a slash of her own wand. Before Cloris even knew what happened, she was knocked backwards and had this horrible burning sensation in her nostrils. Suddenly these creatures were crawling out, getting larger and flying out. Cloris screamed when they started attacking her, their claws pulling at her hair and scratching at her skin.

Someone must have cast the counter-curse, because the bats vanished.

Her father looked like he had swallowed something unpleasant. "It looks like Ms Weasley is the winner of this round. Ms Carrow was caught unaware when Ms Weasley used a non-verbal curse. Something, I'm sure, she will never forget again."

xXxXx

In the Slytherin common room, there was an unspoken rule that the armchairs and couches in front of the fireplace belonged to the upper years. They had been there the longest and earned their spot. Third and fourth years sat in clusters of mismatched couches along the walls. The first and second years were left to find seats wherever they could in the middle of the room. Some even sat on conjured pillows when the common room was particularly crowded.

There was one cream-coloured armchair in particular that no one touched, no one except for Pansy. It was her chair. It was her _throne_. Pansy Parkinson was the undisputed social queen of Slytherin and every queen needed a throne.

So why the hell was Astoria Greengrass sitting in it?

She cleared her throat, causing the fifth year to look up at her. Emilia Avery and Isobel Wilkes seemed to hold their breath as they waited for their leader to respond. Pansy knew that in twelve months time, Astoria would be her natural successor. However, that didn't mean she was about to relinquish the metaphorical crown _now_.

"Yes, Pansy?" Astoria sweetly said.

She didn't want to say something as childish as 'you're sitting in my spot', but the fact that Astoria had thrown social convention to the four winds and took her seat grated on her nerves. She had barely maintained her hold over the girls after Draco lost interest in her. She knew it was only a matter of time before her blood status became common knowledge. She didn't need Astoria openly challenging her on top of that.

"I was hoping to speak with you. Alone." She gave a fleeting look towards Avery and Wilkes.

Pansy had known the Greengrass girls her entire life. Their families had run in the same social circles and with Pansy and Daphne being the only pure-blood girls of quality in their year, the comparisons had started young. Pansy was too dark and too harsh to be considered beautiful. What she lacked in appearance she knew she made up for with a strong personality. Daphne was soft, blonde and sweet. She was always the beauty while Pansy was the brains.

Astoria, however, was pretty _and_ clever. Astoria was the real threat. Up until now, Astoria had been too young to be much of a problem and stayed with the younger girls. Now a fifth year, Astoria seemed to have higher ambitions.

"Okay, sure," Astoria agreed. "Do you mind...?"

The other fifth year girls gathered their things and left. Astoria continued to lounge in the seat, looking like she was born to rule.

"You and I have been great friends for years," Pansy simpered, "you're like a little sister to me, and I hope that things are okay between us. Blaise was - "

She trailed off, letting Astoria pick up on her thought. It was better to let the other girl fill in the blanks.

"A jerk, although I can't say you and Daphne didn't warn me."

Pansy smiled apologetically at the younger girl. "I hope we won't let things get between us."

"Of course not," Astoria said, the corners of her mouth twisted upwards. "Let's promise to never let a boy get between us."

Pansy didn't quite trust Astoria on that, but she decided that a truce would do for now. She knew her power over the girls of Slytherin was really just an illusion. They didn't like her, they were scared of her. Astoria had her little minions in fifth year, and Pansy's best friend was Astoria's own sister. The numbers were not in Pansy's favour. She needed to prove that Pansy Parkinson was still a force to be reckoned with.

Out of the corner of her eye, Pansy noticed Blaise stand up the moment she did. He followed her to the tunnel that lead to the girls' Slytherin dormitory and then stopped at the invisible line that no boy dared to cross. No one knew for sure what would happen, but rumour had it that Salazar Slytherin had cursed it so they couldn't go into the girls' rooms. "Parkinson, what are you doing next weekend?"

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend, so same thing as always. Why?" She knew she'd never keep Blaise's interest for long. Yet with Theodore dating Daphne and Draco emotionally unavailable, Blaise was the next best thing.

"Just asking," Blaise said. "I thought if you didn't already have plans - "

"It's a date then." Pansy smirked. _Your move Little Greengrass._

xXxXx

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the new year. After being searched by the guards outside the Hogwarts gates, Cloris and Annie set off for the small wizarding village.

"Where did you want to go first?" Annie asked. "Honeydukes?"

Cloris shrugged. Every trip was the same old. They'd go to Honeydukes and do a bit of window shopping before going to the crowded Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer. It had lost its appeal in third year. She usually didn't go, but Annie had asked. Not that that ever changed her mind before, but these days she noticed that whenever she ditched Annie, the other girl spent time with Lovegood. That bothered her, so she had been making more of an effort to monopolize Annie's time.

"Maybe The Three Broomsticks before it gets too busy?" Cloris suggested. That way they could avoid the afternoon crowd and, with any luck, the rest of their year.

Unfortunately there was a cluster of Gryffindors outside The Three Broomsticks when they arrived. Cloris almost did a double take when she saw the annoyingly cheerful Potter-worshiper, Colin Creevey, standing among them. He should have been in a tiny six foot cell by now.

"Shouldn't you be in Azkaban with the rest of the your kind?" Cloris asked, covering up her look of shock with a sneer. The nerve of him to come back! Surely Professor Snape wouldn't stand for this and hand him over to the Snatchers. "Maybe they'll put you in the cell next to the one reserved for Potter. I bet you'd like that."

Creevey just gave a tiny shrug. Disappointed in the lack of a response, Cloris continued, "Have you been kissed yet? You might want to get one in soon, wouldn't want your first - and only - to be by a dementor."

" _Cloris_ \- " Annie's weak protests were lost as Weasley exploded at Cloris.

"You stay away from him, you foul - "

It took two of the Gryffindors to retrain her. Both Demezla Robins and Jack Sloper grabbed Weasley, but it was only a matter of time before she shook them off. Especially if she was riled up enough. Cloris smirked, turning her attention on Weasley. This was going to be too easy.

"You volunteering, Weasley? I guess you have no problems slumming with the likes of Creevey here. I've heard you shagged over half the seventh year, or at least, the ones that would touch you. I bet Creevey would love to have Potter's leftovers - "

With an angry cry, Weasley lunged at her, but was restrained this time by Creevey.

"Don't!" Creevey said. "She's not worth it."

Weasley stopped struggling, but her brown eyes still burned. With a haughty toss of her red hair, she said, "You're right. Carrow's not worth my time, she's nothing. But I'm not going to let her cause trouble for you with blood nonsense."

"It's fine, Ginny," Creevey said, his usual high energy subdued. He seemed to be addressing her next or perhaps was just addressing everyone who was curious why he was at Hogwarts and not in Azkaban. A crowd of students was milling around, pretending not to pay attention to the fight between Cloris and the Gryffindors.

"The Ministry was suspicious how two muggle-borns came from the same family and when they looked into it, they found out my mother was a witch. She died when I was three. The Ministry cleared my blood status for Hogwarts, so she's not going to cause any trouble."

"Pitiful excuse for a witch," Cloris said, "breeding with muggles. That's probably why she died, couldn't handle the filth - "

There was an angry flint in Creevey's eyes and before Cloris knew what was happening, he let go of Weasley and the pair of them had their wands out.

" _Stupefy_!" Cloris quickly knocked Creevey out. Blood pounded in her ears as she and Weasley circled each other, each sending hexes, jinxes and curses at the other. The rest of the students formed a circle around them, calling out taunts and suggestions. At some point, Cloris' wand was stolen by Weasley so she tackled the other girl. The physical impact caught Weasley by surprise and she dropped both the wands as she landed on the ground. However, Weasley seemed well adapted to muggle dueling as she kicked, punched and clawed at Cloris like some wild animal.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" She could hear the students chant in the background.

Weasley was sitting on Cloris' stomach, trying to pin her down. Cloris had her fist locked in Weasley's red hair, yanking on it and causing the other girl to cry out and scream.

A red spark exploded, causing both the girls to startle.

"That's enough!" Thundered a voice in the background. Alecto's eyes flickered from Weasley to Cloris. "Weasley, you're banned from Hogsmeade for fighting with another student. And fifteen points from Gryffindor. Now, move along, all of you!"

Cloris pushed Weasley off of her, and both girls quickly climbed to their feet. Next to them, someone revived Creevey. The Gryffindors quickly left after that, casting wary looks at Alecto. Sloper looked like he wanted to protest Weasley's punishment, but, in a rare moment of intelligence, he didn't.

"And Cloris, you know I can't leave you get away with this. Detention, my office for the next month." Her aunt winked at her. "I'll teach you how to defend yourself."

Cloris smirked. She couldn't wait.


End file.
